


Bar Fights, Late Nights

by somethingscarlet13



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: (also kind of), (kind of), Alcohol, Bar fights, Kissing, M/M, Robbery, Self-Sacrifice, because of corse they're gonna be kissing, teen stanchez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:35:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingscarlet13/pseuds/somethingscarlet13
Summary: Stan meats Rick when they're both hiding from a bar fight





	

A beer bottle flew over Stan’s head and he flinched as it hit the wall in front of him. This bar fight wasn’t going to die down anytime soon, so he might as well go through this guy's wallet.

 

Just as he was flipping through the cash, some guy slid into safety behind the bar right up next to him. Stan slid the stolen wallet into his pocket, but not fast enough. The guy, whose hair was an alarming shade of blue, nodded towards his hand. “That yours?”

 

“Yes,” Stan replied quickly. Too quickly. The guy gave him a look, and as quick as a wink, he had grabbed the wallet and was looking at it. He looked up at Stan and burst out laughing two seconds later.

 

“So you’re Saquan Oneil? A...” he looked back down at the wallet again, grinning ear to ear. “Six-one black guy from the Bronx?”

 

Shit. He had been so desperate he hadn’t looked at anyone, just grabbed the first wallet he saw. Instead of ratting him out, however, the guy just tossed the wallet back to Stan and leaned back against the back of the bar just as another bottle flew across the room and shattered right in front of them. 

 

“These fuckers are ruining perfectly good stuff here,” the guy muttered, and quickly crawled to the wall across, grabbing a few bottles before returning to his spot next to Stan. He opened the first bottle, not even looking at what it was, and took a huge gulp. 

 

As he sat there, Stan could finally get a good look at him. The guy was tall and scrawny and wearing skinny jeans and a torn up sleeveless tshirt. He had a piercing in his nose and, from what Stan could count, five piercings in the ear facing him. His boots were black and heeled. Heeled! Like a woman's! Stan was also pretty sure the guy was wearing eyeliner. Altogether the guy looked......hot. He was a mess, and looked like he was at rock bottom, but he made rock bottom look good.

 

“Are you checking me out?” the guy asked, lowering the bottle from his mouth. Stan shook his head. “N-no.”

 

The guy smirked. “Too bad. You’re pretty good looking, Saquan.” 

 

“It’s Stanley.” He had no idea why he had just told this total stranger his name, but it was too late now. 

 

“Rick,” the guy replied. 

 

A guy fell over the bar, crumbling to the floor in front of Rick and Stan, not moving and bleeding from some unknown source on his head. Stan drew his knees to his chest as the blood slowly rivered towards him and there was a nudge on his arm that was Rick offering him the bottle. Stan took it and drank deeply, ignoring the way the alcohol burned on its way down. 

 

“You ever kissed a guy before?” Rick asked as Stan was handing him back the bottle, his eyes boring into him, too intense for it to be a joke question.

 

“No.”

 

Rick rearranged himself. “Do you wanna get outta here without getting beaten to a pulp?”

 

“I can take them. I took boxing in high school.”

 

“One guy against an angry mob? Good luck with that, Lee.” He took another swig. “So I ask again, do you wanna get out of here without getting beaten to a pulp?”

 

“Yeah, sure, I guess.”

 

“Then kiss me.” He held out the bottle. “Take this if you need some liquid courage.” 

 

Stan grabbed the bottle and took deep gulps. What was he doing? What had he gotten himself into? And why, above everything else, did he actually want to kiss Rick?

 

He put the bottle down and took a deep breath. “Alright. Come here.”

 

Rick obediently slid up next to Stan so they were hip to hip. Stan slowly leaned into him, eyes closed, lips parted, and heart threatening to pound right out of his chest. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Stan opened his eyes to see Rick giving him a funny look. Shit. Fuck. That was so stupid, he’d ruined everything. Maybe it had all been a joke that Rick just wanted to see how far he’d go along with. Shit, shit shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

 

“You’re supposed to do it like this.” 

 

And then Stan finds his hair being fisted in Rick's hand and his rough lips on his own, hot and eager, and Stan can feel himself melting. He leans into Rick and is shocked at how truly thin he is. He can feel Ricks heartbeat through his coat and suddenly wants nothing more than to protect him, because, he thinks, Rick is far too fragile to be on his own. At some point there's tongue, and Stan realizes that, besides the fact that Rick tastes like alcohol, he has a tongue piercing. Stan treats it like a target, getting gasps from Rick and eventually it leads to Rick straddling him, grinding against him and trying to get Stan to mess with his tongue piercing as much as possible. Just as Stan is about to come in his pants like a little boy, it stops and Rick pulls away, wiping at his mouth and grinning dirtily. Stan knows that had lasted much longer than intended, but he couldn’t care less. 

 

“You’re not too shabby at that, Lee,” says Rick. “Well, you held up your end of the bargain, now it’s my turn. When I stand up, you start making your way to the door as fast as you can, alright?”

 

Before Stan can fully process what Rick said, his mind still reeling, Rick stands up and walks right into the fight. Stan gets up slowly and begins to make his way to the door. 

 

“Hey! This is the prick who stole my wallet!”

 

Stan freezes, sure someone’s caught him, but when he turns around, it’s Rick everyone is glaring at. Stan feels his pockets and relizes that Rick had taken the wallet while they had been making out. A tall, muscular guy who's covered in tattoos strides over and grabs the wallet from Rick’s hand. And suddenly, Rick looks like a mouse standing in front of a raging rhino. 

 

He can’t leave. Not yet. So as the real Saquan Oneil raises his fist, Stan is pushing his way through the crowd, and two seconds before Rick gets his face bashed in, Stan's own fist has collided with Saquan’s cheek, making him stumble backwards. 

 

Stan hasn’t punched anyone since being kicked out of his house, but suddenly everything’s back and he is ready, excited even, for this fight. 

 

And a fight he gets. There are people all around him, and Stan lets his fists fly, knocking one guy out here, another there. Eventually nobody comes near him, and he finally begins to breathe evenly again. Then Rick is at his side and they're out in the crisp fresh air, both getting into Stan's car and Rick keeps looking over at him, blushing, and Stan realizes he’s impressed him. Turned him on even. 

 

Then Rick empties his pockets. Money. So many bills with so many numbers and Rick says “I took the money out of each guy's wallet that you knocked out.”

 

The only thing Stan can say is “Wholy shit.” 

 

Rick is proud of himself and it shows. “Yup. And there’s a few more bars I know of. I think that if you pull that off at each one, we’ll have enough for, I don’t know, maybe a week.”

 

Rick is grinning at him, that same dirty grin from before, and Stan knows in that second that he’s found the perfect partner in crime. He smirks. “Sounds good, but first things first.”

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“Kiss me.”


End file.
